


Her Majesty's Misfortunate Maid and the Germans

by Bookah



Series: Her Majesty's Misfortunate Maid [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Airships, Butlers, Humor, Maids, Steampunk, germans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookah/pseuds/Bookah
Summary: Violet Jessup is a simple maid aboard Her Majesty's Air Ship Mungo Park with a penchant for troublesome inventions. When the Germans come aboard for a dinner party, will her little devices result in a diplomatic incident? Rated T for archaic sordid language, slightly suggestive allusions, and yet again, ridiculous accents.





	Her Majesty's Misfortunate Maid and the Germans

Aboard her Majesty's Airship Mungo Park the adventurers were, for once, idle. The vessel had departed Europe at last, after mishaps involving pirates, psychics, vampires, and Violet Jessup (though none of those last incidents were represented in the reports being sent back to Her Majesty's Royal Exploratory Service Headquarters). "Mongo Boy" had turned south, leaving behind more civilized lands (and France) behind to cross the Mediterranean, heading for the Dark Continent.

"Why do they call it "The Dark Continent?" Violet asked. Unlike the collection of reformed pirates, unreformed soldiers, mad scientists, journalists, and woman-disguised-as-cabin-boy, the service staff was quite active. Violet was busily sorting silverware in the galley. "I mean, doesn't the sun shine there too?"

"I think it has something to do with the natives," Elizabeth responded. She was quite used to Violet's flights of fancy, and took it all in stride.

"Really?" Violet paused, giving Elizabeth a curious look. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, it's not as though they have gas lamps on the streets there, now do they? So the natives have to wander about in the dark all the time."

"Oh! That rather makes sense," Violet replied, and continued sorting spoons. It was important that they ensured they had plenty of silverware prepared. A few hours earlier they had encountered a German airship engaged in similar business. Even though it was quite well known that Her Majesty had suspicions that the Kaiser had ambitions on Her personal continent, it wouldn't have done to slight the Germans, and so the ship had hove to and invited the Germans over to dinner.

"Miss Jessup," a rich, familiar voice spoke from behind Violet. She turned to see the ever so precise and sharply dressed figure of Alfred Jeeves, the Head Butler.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Walk with me for a moment," Jeeves indicated the passageway with a refined gesture of his white gloved hand. Violet set down a spoon and curtseyed slightly turning to leave the room.

"Sir," Elizabeth spoke up. She was a braver soul than Violet. "Are you quite certain? We need to ensure all the silverware is ready for our guests."

"I'm quite certain you will complete the task with your usual excellence. I require Miss Jessup's talents elsewhere." Jeeves smiled pleasantly, causing Violet to immediately discover that her knees seemed to contain a great deal of water and her stomach seemed to suddenly have discovered the presence of several stones in her earlier lunch. "Besides, those Teutonic twits probably don't know what fine silver looks like anyway."

The matter resolved, Jeeves led the way out into the passageway, Violet walking a proper step behind. The passages had specifically been designed in Her Majesty's Airships to permit proper dress and decorum at all times. After all, it wouldn't be British otherwise. After several steps, Jeeves opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by Violet.

"Did you just insult our guests," Violet asked, shocked at Jeeves' uncharacteristic behavior.

Jeeves paused dead, causing Violet to almost walk into him. His eyes widened. "Oh dear…" He shook his head. "Do forgive me, Miss Jessup. I'm afraid I'm feeling a touch ill."

"Oh my!" Violet responded. "I do hope it's nothing serious."

"I'm quite alright, Miss Jessup," Jeeves smiled. "I have a task for you."

Violet nodded as the two started walking once more. She smiled politely, awaiting instruction. She continued to smile politely, and continued to wait as they made it down the passageway. Her smile started to slip as they turned a corner into another passageway. "Sir?"

"What?" Jeeves shook himself and looked down at Violet. "Oh, Miss Jessup. Good. I have a task for you."

Violet blinked. Twice, feeling that the first blink was probably insufficient. "Sir?" she asked, feeling a touch confused.

"The Huns gave us a gift of some French wine to serve at dinner tonight."

"Sir? Are you certain you're alright?" Violet peered at the butler, who seemed to be sweating. "You've insulted our guests again."

"Have I?" Jeeves looked a little confused. "Well, it's not like it matters. Everyone knows the boche are after Africa. Proper behavior towards them is quite a waste of good manners." Jeeves reached up and tugged at his collar a bit.

"Mr. Jeeves? Sir? You really aren't well," Jessup spoke, concern filling her voice. "Perhaps I should take you to the doctor?"

"Yes," Jeeves responded, reeling a little. "But before you do, I have a task for you."

Violet reached up, and quite improperly, placed an arm around Jeeves waist. She colored up a great deal while doing so, but she swallowed and made herself take hold of his far elbow, her other hand resting on the near, and began guiding him down the passageway towards the sickbay. "Yes, sir. You've said so."

"Quite right," Jeeves muttered. "You really are a sharp one, Miss Jessup. Very sharp."

Violet staggered, nearly toppling and pulling Jeeves down on top of her. "Sir, I…"

"Yessss…" Jeeves slurred. "And I have… a task." Jeeves smiled. "The wine... pour the wine…" And with that, Jeeves quite properly rolled his eyes into his head. "Oh, this is a most unfortunate dereliction," he muttered, and then properly passed out.

"DOCTOR JACKAL!" Violet shouted, certain that Jeeves was in no condition to object. From a hatch just a few steps away a head stuck out. The man in control of that head caused it to turn towards Violet, contemplating her, and then turned it to look down at Jeeves.

"Oh dear," Doctor Jackal said. "This just won't do." He put the head back into its jar on his desk, then stepped out into the corridor. "I couldn't see at all through his eyes. That certainly makes things more difficult." He shrugged his lab coated shoulders. "What seems to be the problem, miss?"

Violet pointed at her feet.

"Oh my." The doctor leaned down. "Hide!"

Violet dove into the closet next to her.

"Yes, Doctor?" A short little man came trundling out of the sickbay to stand next to Dr. Jackal. "You called?"

Violet stuck her head out of the closet, feeling rather sheepish.

"What do you make of this, Hide?"

"It appears to be a butler, Doctor."

"Yes!" Doctor Jackal cried out, thrusting a finger in the air. "One that appears to need our help!" The doctor kneeled down next to Jeeves and immediately began examining him.

"Whatever is the matter with him?" Violet asked, worried.

"Oh, it's nothing. He's just suffering consecotaleophobia!"

Hide shook his head. "We're nowhere near Taiping."

Doctor Jackal harrumphed. "Yes, yes. Of course. I was just testing you. He's really suffering from cervical effacement."

Hide arched an eyebrow and coughed.

"Lupus?"

"It's never lupus."

Doctor Jackal sighed. "Well, let's get him into the sick bay so we can treat his fontanelle."

Hide rolled his eyes. He patted Violet on the arm. "He'll be fine, miss. Trust me. Now, just run along, won't you?"

Worried, Violet wandered down the corridor.

A short time later she was standing with the reception party when the guests from the German airship came aboard. They were all uniformed with extremely stiff jackets and collars, and wearing peculiar hats with points sticking out of the top. Even more pointy were the moustaches each of them wore. She was positive that one could have hung hats off them and they would have stayed stiff.

Captain Morgan stood at the for of the Mungo Boy's compliment as the Germans came aboard. Behind him stood the various soldiers, mad scientists, adventurers, journalists, and obligatory-woman-disguised-as-cabin-boy that formed the important parts of the ship's crew. As the Germans stepped aboard from the mini-dirigible they'd used to reach the Mungo Park, Captain Morgan extended his hand. "Welcome, Captain Schwarzesherz. It is a privilege to have you and your crew aboard."

"It iz our pleasure to attend, Herr Kapitän zur Luft Morgan." The man's slate grey eyes stabbed out as he took in the crew. "I vish to thank you und your crew vor der invetachun. You received our gift?"

"Yes we did, thank you sir. It is my hope that together we may use it to drink to the health of both His Majesty and to the health of your Kaiser Wilhelm." Captain Morgan smiled.

Captain Schwarzesherz shook his head gently. "Dot vould be nice, ja. However, ve Germans vould prefer to raise a toast vith beer. I do hope you vill not be displeased if ve do so? Ve are not drinkers ov Vrench vine, you see. Ov course, ve vould nefer insist you give up vine to drink the toast. Tradition, ja?"

"Oh, quite alright," Captain Morgan smiled. "We shall then raise toasts in whichever drink we prefer. The spirit is the thing, don't you see?"

"Ja, I do. Thank you. Und now, Fritz!" The German turned to the enterage behind him and snapped his fingers. "Die papiere, bitte!"

One of the younger Germans ran forward with a large stack of papers. He handed them off to Captain Schwarzesherz, then presented a pen and bottle of ink.

"Danke, Fritz," Captain Schwarzesherz nodded to the man, then turned back to Captain Morgan. "If you vould be so kind, ve should do der papervork bevore ve turn to dinner, ja? Alles in ordnung." He tapped the top sheet. "If you vould chust sign hier, hier, und hier, this authorizes us to exchange pleasantries during der meal. On de next page ve haff der authorization vor us to assign seating at der meal according to rank, vith military rank und rank of peerage cross referenced on table Vun. Then ve haff…"

Violet was no longer present to see this take place, however. At the word "wine" she had immediately slapped her head (quietly and subtly. It wouldn't be properly British to make a scene after all) and snuck out of the room. She hurried down the corridor, her mind in a bit of a dither.

"That's it! That's what Mr. Jeeves was trying to tell me." She hitched up her skirts and rushed past the galley. "He needed me to pour the wine because he was going to be indisposed!" She dashed past the wine cellar (which was actually not in a cellar, this being an airship, after all). "Fortunately, I have just the thing!" She sped past the pantry with the wine glasses, cork pullers, and ice buckets and threw herself into one of the mechanical workshops, pulling the door to with a clang.

In spite of the complications caused by having to marry up a copper pipe to a leather sprocket, trying to find suitable high temperature left handed tuber flanges, and an escaped wombat that had nothing to do with the project until after the fact, Violet was able to make it to the dinner in time. She'd even managed to make it back to her quarters first and change into an outfit that didn't smell of smoke, have numerous stains from solvents and lubricants, or any strategically placed tears.

As she had helped serve and then clear away first the entrée, and then the salad she had listened as the two crews had regaled one another with tales about their relative adventures. Violet had thrilled at the stories of daring do the Germans had experienced, even if the telling of their stories had sounded almost like a report being read from official correspondence. The British stories had been more flowing and lyrical. They had also embarrassed her rather badly, as it seemed that many of them somehow included her, such as the incident with the gargoyle, the bucket of soapy water, and the automated loom, the one featuring the attempt to steal the Giza Pyramids using ten thousand gallons of coffee, three left over iron-clads, and a particularly angry midget, or the one with the submersible captain, the white smock, and the very large highly visible reef no one had seemed to notice.

Fortunately for Violet the stories had ended, as she began serving up the main course of curry. Instead the talk had then turned to politics. This had bored her far more, and so she'd found her mind wandering a bit.

"You understand, ov course, Herr Captain. Germany is becoming a great nation. It is only natural the ve vould require colonies ov our own." Captain Shwartzesherz said as he scooped up a forkful of curry. He popped it into his mouth and immediately began to sweat.

"However, you must acknowledge that the German Empire has only just gotten a start. Would it not be better to get your own house in order before you take over the management of another?" Captain Morgan smiled as he sipped a glass of rum, one of the few things the Air Service and the Navy could seem to agree on.

"To the contrary," Captain Schwartzesherz responded. He contemplated the curry with an expression that spoke of grim fascination or horror. "This is der best time vor it. Ve can reorganize everything at vonce. It iz much more efficient dot vay." Wielding his fork as though it were a weapon he plunged it into the curry once more and then placed further Indian food into his mouth, chewing with determination.

"I still suggest that you might want to get a little experience first," Captain Morgan suggested, then tossed back a shot as though fueling himself on high octane alcohol.

"Ve have manuals," the German rejoindered. He then shot the curry a look. "Do you eat der curry all der time in England?" he asked.

"Oh, quite!" Captain Morgan replied. "Delightful little dish, isn't it?"

"Er… Ja… Zehr Gud." Captain Schwartzesherz smiled disingenuously. He popped out a pocket watch. "Himmel! Look at der time! Ve have a schedule. Ve must be prompt, ov course."

"Oh, quite right," Captain Morgan responded. "But first, a toast."

"Of course, Herr Kapitan." Captain Schwartzesherz reached for his tankard of stout. Beside him, Captain Morgan reached out for his wine glass, then waggled it slightly towards Violet.

With a well repressed squeak, the maid immediately leaned forward and tripped the switch on her little contraption. The thing trundled forward towards the Captains, a bottle of wine held between two pincers that had once been engine mountings. It stopped beside the captain and extended a corkscrew that had once been a corkscrew. With a resounding pop the cork was pulled free, and the machine poured the wine into a container mounted on it's back. A hose extended and began filling Captain Morgan's cup.

"How fascinating," Captain Schwartzesherz commented. He leaned down to stare at the machine. "It is driven by belts on der vheels?"

"Quite right," Captain Morgan responded, taking it all in stride. "We have a very inventive crew on board the Mongo Park."

"I see. Vhat do you call this thing?"

"Well," Captain Morgan eyed the parts. "A tank, Captain."

The machine trundled along to the first mate, and then the top spun to realign the hose dispensing wine. The red liquid flowed into the First Mate's cup, filling it precisely, then began rolling along once more, heading for the next esteemed member of the dinner party to be properly British.

Violet beamed (privately) with pride. It was working! By golly it was! It was her most successful device yet, and it had even impressed Captain Morgan's guests! Why, if only Mr. Jeeves had been here to see how well things were going! He'd at last admit that she really was a splendid maid, and well deserving of…

A grinding sound broke into her thoughts, and her face congealed. Smoke was beginning to come out from around the bearings holding the wine tank in place. The machine appeared to be in some distress, as it's tracks whirred back and fourth spastically. Wine began to slosh out the top of the tank, splashing onto the floor.

"Gott in Himel!" Captain Schwarzesheartz exclaimed. "Vhat is der meaning of this?"

The machine gave a particularly violet lurch immediately after that question, spinning about madly, and slinging a spray of wine that splattered everywhere. Both Captains were ducked for cover, deftly avoiding being splashed. Across the table, however, most of the Germans and half the Mungo's officers were bathed in crimson. Before they could object they were themselves dashing for cover as the machine smashed through the table and began slipping and sliding madly in curry, the treads spraying it everywhere.

"Oh dear," Violet muttered quietly.

Suddenly and without warning, an apparition in black stepped out of the hall and, making it look very ordinary, flicked the machine's switch off. The machine gave a sigh and promptly fell apart.

"Forgive my dereliction of duty, Captain. I see now that I have failed in my duties and will tender my…"

"Mr. Jeeves!" Violet cried out, then immediately clamped her hands over her mouth.

The aforementioned butler turned towards her and arched an eyebrow.

Flushing, Violet contemplated her exceedingly shiny black shoes. "I thought you were sick, sir?"

"Not sick," Doctor Jackal responded, stepping into the room. "He was suffering from an acute case of Aquagenic Urticaria."

"What?" Violet asked, looking confused.

Hide stepped into the room from behind Doctor Jackel. "Doctor," he said. "Why don't you run along and play with your forceps."

"Oh! Splendid idea!" Doctor Jackal responded, dashing off in a flurry of pink fuzzy bunny slippers and labcoats.

Hide sighed, shaking his head. "Jeeves was poisoned."

The room gasped. Jeeves rolled his eyes. "I was trying to avoid a scene, sir," he commented as he stood amidst dripping curry, smoking machinery, and wine stained tablecloths.

"Impossible!" Captain Schwartzeshertz shouted.

"Not at all," Jeeves replied. "When your esteemed crew brought the gifted of wine aboard, I immediately sampled it in order to ensure that the curry would suit it. Of course, I realized at once it had been poisoned, and rushed off to ask Ms. Jessup to pour the wine overboard."

Violet winced.

"Unfortunately I was derelict in my duties, and did not properly instruct her. I will, of course, be tendering my…"

"Impossible!" Captain Schwarteshertz shouted once more. "If you vere poisoned, how is it you are standing heir?"

"I am a proper British butler, sir," Jeeves responded. Every English head in the room nodded.

The German captain broke into a string of swearing that shall not be recounted here. Suffice it to say that it cast significant aspersions upon His Majesty, Jeeves, the British Empire, and upon British Imperialism in general.

Captain Morgan frowned at Schwarteshertz. "Poisoning the crew of one of His Majesty's ships so that we would be unable to explore Africa while you swooped in?" He tsked. "You realize, of course, that this means war."

"Nein," Captain Schwarteshertz replied. "Dere vill be no var yet."

"Whatever do you mean?" Captain Morgan sounded rather affronted.

"Ve are running on a very tight schedule," Captain Schwarteshertz replied. "Fritz!"

One of the Germans came slipping through the muck. "Javohl, Herr Capitan!"

"My planner, Fritz."

The young man reached into his crimson stained jacket and brought out a black dayplanner. He slapped it into Captain Schwarteshertz hand. The Captain flipped it open, and examined several pages. "Gott in Himmel," he muttered. "There ve are. Ve haff an opening on the 4th of August, 1914?"

"Splendid!" Captain Morgan exclaimed. "We'll have tea."

"Zehr gut," Captain Schwartzeshertz replied. He quickly scribbled something down in the day planner, then closed the book with a snap, handing it back to Fritz. "Until then, Herr Kapitan?"

"Of course," Captain Morgan replied. "May I walk you to your dirigible?"

"Danke sehr," Captain Schwarteshertz nodded, and with that the entire entourage departed the room.

Violet turned to walk with them, as it was only proper to see guests off. She was stopped, however, by a barely audible "ahem."

"Yes sir?" she responded, turning demurely to face Jeeves.

"Miss Jessup. I am aware that I have been indisposed, and thus remiss in my duties. But may I remind you that this is a King's Ship? I expect things to be proper at all times." He pointed to the disaster in the room. "Clean this up, and then respond to the scullery for extra duty."

"Yes, sir," Violet sighed.


End file.
